


I'll be there for you

by Ellysees



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, BAMF!John, Comfort, Fluff, Injury, M/M, Massage, PTSD, Sweet Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellysees/pseuds/Ellysees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweet oneshots featuring various Johnlock scenarioes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What you need to hear

“Another case solved, good job Sherlock” Lestrade said and patted the consulting detective approvingly on the shoulder.

Sherlock snorted.

“Hmmpf, it was child’s play, next time you have a case for me please make sure it’s actually worth my time.”

Lestrade chuckled and turned to face the seemingly inseparable team of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

“Anyway, thanks for the help both of you. I’ll be in touch should we need you again.” The detective inspector said and shook the hands of the two men before he disappeared down the hallway, letting the two find their own way out of the police station.

The two companions continued down the hallway. It was late and by now they were both eager to get home to their shared apartment to sit in front of the fire, have a nice cup of hot tea and allow the stress of the past hectic hours to drift from their exhausted bodies.

John, who walked faithfully at his lover's side, couldn’t suppress a small chuckle.

“Aw come on Sherlock, you have to admit that even you were almost at a lost when that necklace wasn’t in the safe.”

“A minor setback merely John, but I can assure you I knew all along it was the lawyer that was the culprit.” The tall curly haired detective said confidently to the smaller man at his side, but with a small smile on his face.

John was just about to make another comment when the sound of quickly approaching footsteps and an unmistakably voice came up from behind them.

“Modest as always, aren’t we freak?” Sergeant Sally Donovan said in her usual harsh and cold voice.

Right behind was Anderson. He looked just as prude and displeased as he always did when Sherlock was around.

“Earth to weirdo! It’s not like you did all the work yourself and yet you always take all the credit, don’t you?” The dark haired man said with venom in his voice.

John could visibly see how Sherlock immediately tensed up as the two walked towards them. He too could feel the anger slowly rise inside himself. John had come to dislike Donovan and Anderson just as much and possible even more than Sherlock. They always meant trouble. But the very _worst_ thing about them was how they constantly trashed talked Sherlock in ways his brilliant boyfriend clearly didn't deserve. Though Sherlock rarely showed it, John _knew_ it affected Sherlock more than he was willing to let on.

Sherlock and John’s relationship was still only about three weeks old, having finally realized that their shared connection had been so much deeper than just friendship, but they had decided to keep it a secret for now.  Some people probably wouldn’t be surprised by their relationship at all, seeing as so many already assumed they were dating (which was true now of course), but other’s might look upon their relationship disapprovingly and with contempt (really, too many homophobes inhabited this world). unfortunately Sally and Anderson were without a doubt two of those people who would strongly dislike the thought of them together. Most likely because they had the idea that Sherlock was nothing more than a heartless robot, incapable of love, which definitely was the biggest lie of the century according to John. True Sherlock had had problems identifying the feelings he had felt towards John because he had never felt anything like it before. But once Sherlock had identified his feelings and John had admitted to himself that he might not be as straight as he thought himself to be – Sherlock had proved to be nothing short of an amazing boyfriend and lover, passionate, protective, gentle and caring. Of course he still had his occasional mood swings, but John hadn’t expected anything less. Sherlock made him feel loved and wanted. Something he hadn’t felt for a long, long time.

So hearing these two arrogant bastards speak of Sherlock in such an insulting degrading manner never failed to anger John severely, but before John could turn around and tell them to beat it. His slim limbed boyfriend had already turned around to face the still approaching officers, his face completely emotionless.

“Well if the two of you started doing your job instead of jumping on each other like bunnies during work hours, then maybe I wouldn’t need to come down here all the time and take all the credit as well as having to take over your work.” The detective said in his a matter of fact voice.

This comment clearly baffled Donovan and Anderson as both their heads turned bright red in embarrassment.

“W-Who the hell do you think you are you freaking misfit?! Coming with such a totally farfetched accusation like that!!” Donovan said angrily.

“Oh it isn’t farfetched.. You both reek of your overpriced Calvin Klein perfume and judging from the intensity of that smell and the darkness of the hickey poorly hidden under Anderson’s scarf I would say it haven’t been more than approximately 2 hours since you two went at it inside the office supply room, from which I assume those ink stains that can be found on the hands of you both, is from” Sherlock said in nearly one breath.

John couldn’t help but enjoy how Donovan's and Anderson's faces grew even redder with embarrassment and left both of them speechless for a couple of moments.

“W-What the hell do you know you stupid nutcase?!! You’re nothing but a fucked up psychopath anyway!!” Anderson yelled and without any warning pushed Sherlock so hard that the detective fell hard into the wall, knocking over a trashcan in the process.

This made John snap and he immediately gripped the collar of Anderson and easily lifted the weaker man, his eyes filled with rage and fury.

“Don’t you _dare_ touch him again!” The doctor growled angrily into the now completely terrified face of Anderson, who quickly nodded in agreement, not daring to speak in fright of angering the ex-soldier any further.

“John!! P-Put him down!” Donovan ordered from the sideline, not wanting to admit that John actually scared her a bit.

But John ignored the order and kept glaring into the eyes of Anderson whom he still held with a firm grip at his collar.

“I don’t want to _ever_ hear any of you talk to him like that again or you’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

Again Anderson nodded.

With that settled John let go of the still scared man, sending them both a last warningly death glare as they stumbled back down the hallway, mumbling angrily as they went.

“They’re gone now Sherlock. Come let’s go ho-“ But when John turned around Sherlock were nowhere to be found. Only the tipped over trashcan lay left on the floor where Sherlock had previously been.

‘Shit!’ was all John could think as he ran down the hallway and out to on the street to hail a cab.

\---

When John finally made it home to 221b Baker street he ran up the stairs as fast as he could. There were no lights on, but John could still make out the unmistakably shape of Sherlock slumped in the armchair.

John turned on the small lamp at the coffee table allowing the soft glow of light to spread throughout the apartment. As he shrugged off his jacket he immediately noticed how cold it was and quickly made his way to the fireplace and got a fire going, hoping it would warm up the place fast.

Sherlock hadn’t uttered a single word since he had arrived, he only sat motionless in the armchair with what would for most people seem like an emotionless mask, but John wasn’t most people. He knew Sherlock better than anyone else and he could easily see the hurt and anguish that lay hidden in those bright eyes.

John’s heart wrenched at the sight. Without a word, he walked over and sat on the armrest at Sherlock’s side and gently placed his arms around the slight framed man in a comforting way and pulled him close to his chest, kissing the top of the dark curls. Sherlock didn’t offer him as much as a glance.

“Sherlock..” He began, but was quickly interrupted.

“I’m perfectly fine John.” Sherlock said in a monotone voice against John's chest, still not looking at him.

“Sherlock listen..” John tried again, but once again he was interrupted.

“There’s no need John.. They’re right after all.” Sherlock said, his face still emotionless as stone.

John’s eyes widened in shock and his hold around Sherlock tightened a little further.

“Sherlock what in the world are you saying?”

“Let’s face it John, they’re right. I am a freak, misfit a weirdo... Psycopath... I do not seem to fit in anywhere.. I’m..I'm  just not.. Normal…”

As Sherlock talked the emotionless mask he had kept up slowly started to crumble. John could feel the shoulders tense beneath his hands and how Sherlock lowered his head, like in defeat, resting against his hand. Once again John’s heart wrenched when he saw the small tears gather in the corner of Sherlock’s eyes and his body started to tremble, trying to suppress the tears threatening to fall.

John tightened his protective hold around Sherlock.

“No, Sherlock you're not normal.." Sherlock tensed and tried to pull away when hearing those words escaping even John's mouth, but John didn't allowed him to pull away and quickly continued;

"You're not normal Sherlock - you're amazing, brilliant, gorgeous and Unique. Don’t ever listen to them, they don’t know what they’re talking about.” John said determined and gently rubbed lover's tense back.

Sherlock couldn’t help but let out a small chocked sob.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you! You’re _perfect_ the way you are!” John said, confident in his own words before adding in a soft whisper;

"And I love you.. Sherlock.. I love you with my whole heart."

Silence followed - no sound but the soft scratching of John's hand across Sherlock's back.

That was the first time any of them said those words, but John didn't regret saying them - because it was the truth.

Suddenly Sherlock's long arms wrapped themselves around John’s torso and pulled the doctor even closer, burying his face in his jumper as he did so and Sherlock finally allowed his tears to run freely down his cheeks. He leaned closer to John, seeking more comfort and feeling the love in his soothing warmth embrace.

"I love you too.. So much John.. So much..." The detective mumbled into the chest in front of him. He had never thought he would hear anyone utter those words to him.. People always called him a freak, queer and unloveble.. But John had said it and meant it.. John loved him.. And he loved John.

John immediately let Sherlock into his arms and allowed him to cry silently in his chest. To many people thought Sherlock to be heartless and immune to insults because of his distant attitude towards many daily life things and yes, normally the man is able to shake of the frequent insults, but Sherlock is still only human. He isn’t a heartless machine that people can push around and hurt, assuming it doesn’t affect him. But John knew the truth.. He could see how Sherlock’s eyes would flash hurt and sadness whenever he had to take yet another insult or accusation straight to his face, but just as fast it would disappear behind the wall Sherlock had put between himself and the world. A wall only a chosen few had ever been allowed and able to breach and John being the first and only one that Sherlock no longer bothered to keep a wall between. Sherlock had allowed John access to his heart, allowed him to love him and love John back in return and John would make sure Sherlock would never forget how loved he was ever again. 

After some time Sherlock's silent tears stopped their steam down his cheeks, but John kept his arms around him, continuing to offer warmth, comfort and love as long as Sherlock would allow him too.

After another few minutes of comfortable silence Sherlock finally said:

“Thank you John.. I.. I really needed to hear that.” Sherlock mumbled tiredly into the warm chest in front of him.   

John smiled.

“Good because you'll be hearing a lot from now on - I love you Sherlock.”

Sherlock couldn't suppress a smile of his own.

"I love you John."

 


	2. Strong too long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John returns home from work which was.. A bit not good...

The moment John stepped through the door Sherlock could see it. The way the doctor slumped against the door, his head hanging low, his hands shaking..  That.. And the fact that John’s work shift at the surgery had lasted 18 hours, instead of the usual 8, all added to the conclusion that John Watson had had a more than rough day and night.

“John..”

Sherlock’s worried voice reached across the room. Even though it was close to two in the morning, Sherlock hadn’t been able to go to sleep before John had returned home, so he had waited up for his boyfriend to return and right now, he was glad he did.

John raised his weary head at the sound of Sherlock’s gentle voice. He hadn’t even noticed Sherlock until right now, and slightly surprised that his lover had waited up for him. Sherlock of cause immediately noticed the heavy bags underneath those usually cheery, blue eyes that were now, to his dismay, dull and bloodshot, clearly from hours of stress and lack of sleep.

John opened his mouth in an attempt to greet Sherlock, but as he did all he managed was a shaky sigh as he could feel hot tears gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this Sherlock immediately stood and, without a single word, crossed the room in three long strides so he stood in front of John to pull the man into a comforting embrace.

John immediately accepted the hug from his lover and pulled himself even closer, seeking all the warmth and comfort the detective could offer him as the tears began rolling down his cheeks.

“What happened love?” Sherlock whispered gently has his hands began to gently rub John’s tense back in a comforting way.

John forced himself to take a couple of deep calming breaths before answering, his voice still shaky.

“Mass shooting.. Downtown.. The patients just kept coming…”

Sherlock closed his eyes.

“How many?” He asked lowly.

“2.. An elder mand and.." John swallowed "And a small boy…” He finished, a fresh wave of tears rolling down his cheeks once again.

Sherlock knew how hard it was for John every time he would lose a patient, especially when the death is a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, because some psychopath decides to take destiny into his own hands.. And worse of all is when John loses a child.. It’s by far the worst experience to have ever overcome the poor doctor; a child, who’ve barely had the chance to live, and then see the life of this innocent being slip right through one’s hands.. It’s a feeling you’ll never grow accustomed to..

Still, Sherlock can’t help but feel proud, because to be honest.. To have lost ‘only’ 2 lives out of so many shot victims is beyond spectacular. But Sherlock knows he won’t be able to make his boyfriend truly understand how amazing he is tonight.. Tonight those 2 lost lives, especially the boy's, will be all his mind is able to focus on and Sherlock will do anything to try and soothe and comfort his doctor until the completely unreasonable guilt he is no doubt haunted by will pass.

Sherlock can feel a wet spot forming and spreading on his shoulder and tightens his protective hold around the now shaking form in his arms.

"He was 10 Sherlock.. Only ten years old... He would have turned 11 next week - he told me he wished for a puppy that his brother would come home from USA to celebrate him.. And I lost him.. I lost him…” John sobbed into the chest in front of him with a voice rough with exhaustion and sadness. 

“Don't do this to yourself John - you did everything in your power. It's _not_ your fault."

"I had to go tell the parents.. His mother collapsed to the floor in despair and I could do nothing but apologize and bloddy condole! Oh God.." John sobbed, his voice tight with frustation and anger aimed at himself.

"It’s alright love.. It’ll all be allright..” Sherlock whispered soothingly into the dark blond hair.

John sniffed and tried, rather unsuccessfully, to stop the tears that just keep falling.

Sherlock spoke again;

"You saved so many lives tonight John.. You're amazing - so many lives and so many families that are still whole and able to be with their loved ones because of you love."

John once again tried to stop the tears by wiping them off with his sleeve.

 “Sorry Sherlock.. You must think me so weak.. A soldier isn’t supposed to cry..”

Sherlock couldn't help smiling a little sad smile. This was so typical John, believing he was weak when it actually it the exact opposite.

“Oh John, don’t be stupid.. These tears aren’t a sign of you being weak.. It’s simply a sign that you’ve been strong for too long…” Sherlock whispered into his lover's ear and tightened his hold around him further.

At these words John breaks down in sobs again and burries his face back into Sherlock's purple shirt. Sherlock simply holds his love tightly until the sobs slowly dies. He then helps his John into their shared bedroom and holds him throughout the night as well.

John is grateful for the strong arms of his boyfriend that makes him feel safe and loved when he needs it the most.


	3. Only you can ease my pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s shoulder is acting up due to the weather – Sherlock makes it all better

John winched and gasped as yet another sharp stab of pain pierced his shoulder, centering in his old wound from Afghanistan. Though it was nothing unusual at this time of year for his shoulder to act up (the cold weather always made it stiff and aching) it was still a painful and dreaded experience each time. The pain was often accompanied by small yet rough and ruthless flashbacks from that ill-fated day he had received the wound – the day he and his entire team had ambushed and he, despite his greatest efforts, had lost three men at his hands.

Another wave of hot white pain hit the doctor. The hand, currently grasping his bare, left shoulder in a desperately tight grip tightened, if possible, even further and John couldn’t help letting of a small cry of pain this time around. Normally these painful incidents didn’t last long enough to grow this painful, normally a pair of long pale hands would come to his rescue and, without him even asking, gently massage and kneed his tense muscles around the wound into relaxation, before the pain got to unbearable. They would continue to do so even long after the pain had subsided completely, then move to John’s neck and slowly work their way downwards until their owner was one hundred percent sure that the back underneath his elegant, slender, yet strong fingers was ridden of all its stiffness and knots. Those hands would then, gently push his body down for his head to lie in a soft, awaiting lap and then soothingly comb through his dark blond hair, silently banishing all the traumatic flashbacks that would haunt his mind and the handsome face of the owner would smile softly down at him while filling the silence with comforting words.

But, unfortunately, Sherlock weren’t in the apartment at the moment. He was currently running and errand to the morgue (fetching more body parts for his experiments no doubt). Right now though, John found himself deeply wishing that the world’s only consulting detective was at his side, easing this unbearable pain and chasing all those horrid memories from his mind, the way that only he could do it. Yes, Sherlock and only Sherlock could make his pain go away. Not even the warmth from the burning fireplace could do anything to soothe the increasingly painful throbbing of his shoulder. For some unknown reason, only Sherlock was able to ease his pain and never once had the man complained - Sherlock that always complained about every damn thing had never complained when John needed him and never did John have to ask when he needed the soothing and comforting touch of the detective. This John appreciated deeply because he knew, no matter how much pain he would be in, he would never be able to bring himself to _ask_ Sherlock to help him out. He always felt weak when his wound would act up, leaving him gasping and winching and _helpless_ and he absolutely hated it. But whenever it happened Sherlock would always immediately abandon whatever thing he was doing, as soon as he saw the familiar pain flash in the doctor’s eyes and begin the long and slow process of easing and relaxing the doctor once again.

But, as mentioned earlier, Sherlock wasn’t here and the pain in John’s shoulder had by now grown into full blown agony. John sat and the couch in the living room and breathed sharply through his gritted teeth, as it was all he could do to try and work himself through the pain, while desperately trying to ignore the flashing images of his screaming and dying comrades in his head. In his haze of pain and agony he didn’t even hear the light footsteps ascending the stairs or the slight creak of the door as it was opened.

“Oh my God, John!”

First when he heard the worried outburst coming from the door did John register that he was no longer alone. He slowly lifted his head to see a worried Sherlock quickly discharging himself of his long coat and blue scarf and carelessly toss them to the ground before rushing to his doctor’s side.

Immediately gentle warm hands started to work on the overly strained muscles in John’s shoulder, making the doctor let out a small hiss, but oh so relieved that Sherlock was back, knowing he would make everything well again.

“John, why didn’t you call me? If I had known I could have.. I would have been able to get here before it got so bad.”

Sherlock said while his hands never stopped working, hurt evident in his voice. He just couldn’t stand seeing John, _his_ John, in pain. It simply broke his heart and he wanted nothing more than make all that pain disappear.

John felt a little pang of guilt, hearing the clearly hurt tone in his boyfriend's voice.

“I’m sorry Sherlock.. I.. I  just..”

John didn’t know what to say to make Sherlock understand. But it didn’t really matte, Sherlock could tell what John meant even without hearing the man voice his reasons.

“It’s alright, I’m here now. It’s okay, I’ll make it all okay again John.” Sherlock whispered reassuringly and increased the pressure slightly on John’s shoulder.

"Bloody he..!!" John bit his lip to stop the curse escape his lips as the deeper penetration of the cramped up muscle caused yet another weave of hot pain to rack through him.

Sherlock immediately let up the pressure of his fingers again – The state of John’s shoulder was worse than earlier episodes alike since Sherlock hadn’t been home to prevent it from worsening. Sherlock cursed himself silently for not having made in home sooner. Clearly he would have to be much gentler in his approach than usually and work out the muscles little by little. No doubt it would take a long time, but Sherlock couldn’t care less, all that mattered was to ease John’s pain as fast and effectively as possible!

“Talk to me John, where is the pain most intense?” Sherlock asked in a gentle voice.

“Suspraspinatus and.. in the center of infraspinatus…” John hissed, using the correct medical terms of the muscles that pained him the most, being more accurate that way than if just telling Sherlock ‘up high’ or ‘down low’, knowing that his boyfriend knew the areas he was referring to.

Sherlock nodded in understanding and very, very gently started to draw soft circular patterns with his thumbs on the cramped and rock hard muscles John had pointed out being the main causes of his current agony. First after about 10 minutes of doing this did Sherlock dare to increase the pressure a bit, not wanting to cause John any pain again, relieved when he heard John let out a soft, pleased hum and not a pained gasp at the action. Sherlock continued this pattern, only increasing the pressure of his fingers when he was absolute sure it would not hurt John to do so.

“Oh God..” John moaned in pleasure as Sherlock found a particularly stubborn knot in his shoulder - working it out gently and skillfully before moving on to the next.

“Christ.. Sherlock.. You. Are. Amazing…” John moaned in relief as Sherlock’s pale, slender hands slowly turned his pain into pure pleasure.

 “I thought that phrase was limited to describe my deduction skills.” Sherlock chuckled, his hands never stopping their work.

“No.. God no… You’re so amazing in every way.. And your hands are –OH GOD YES! right there Sherlock!” John groaned in midsentence as Sherlock rubbed the spot right under his shoulderblade.  “And your hands are no exception..” He finished in an exhaled breath.

Sherlock snorted a little.

“I’m hardly amazing in every way John, I’ve been told several times that my social skills apparently are lacking in numerous aspects – I still don’t see why it was needed for everybody to make such a big fuss when I confronted Mr. Robertson about clearly having an affair with the family’s au pair yesterday.”

“Sherlock, his wife and kids were standing right behind him!” John tried to explain, but already knew in the back of his mind that that kind of thinking wasn’t part of Sherlock’s logic.”

“It was the truth was it not?” Sherlock countered, rolling one of his knuckles gently over a spot on John’s shoulder while he talked.

“That’s – Ahh.. Not the point Sherlock..” John half moaned due to Sherlock’s continued ministrations.

When Sherlock did not answer John continued;

“But it really doesn’t matter Sherlock – I love you just the way you are, sociopathic behavior and everything. You’re brilliant, amazing, gorgeous and so much more. You saved me from my loneliness and the tedious reality I called my life.. To me you’re perfect.” John whispered the last bit, feeling a little silly being so sentimental, knowing Sherlock had never been a big fan of sentiment in the first place, but it was the truth none the less and John wanted Sherlock to know.

Sherlock’s hands stilled and a few seconds of silence followed. John was almost afraid his little declaration had been too much romanticism for Sherlock to accept in one evening and that he would pull away from John in discomfort, but just then John felt a pair of soft lips gently touch the skin where his neck and shoulder met closely followed by a deep whisper into his left ear;

“I love you too, John.” The voice showing nothing but honesty and gratitude.

John closed his eyes and smiled. No more words were exchanged between the two, except the continued soft moans and hums of pleasure as Sherlock continued to work out the stiffness of John’s hurt shoulder for another 20 minutes – having finally eased out most of the tension there.

John’s moans grew louder when Sherlock pushed him down to lay face down and stretched out on the couch then completely focused on working out the remaining tension in the doctor’s neck, shoulders and back for another half hour. When John literally felt like pudding under Sherlock’s hands, the detective gently eased John's head on to his lap and started to run his fingers through his hair and massage his temples, as he always did. As he did John could feel how the dark memories were replaced by a heavy feeling of sleepiness.

“Better?” Sherlock whispered from somewhere above, never stopping the caress of his hands through John’s soft hair.

“Much.. So much better… Thank you love…” John mumbled tiredly, fully enjoying the soothing feeling of Sherlock’s hands.

Sherlock smiled lovingly.

“Good, then sleep John, you need to rest.”

Sherlock did not need to repeat that as John immediately feel asleep. His breathing heavy and regular, looking pain free and peaceful.

Sherlock’s smile grew and he couldn’t stop the warm feeling spreading in his chest at the sight. With one last caress across the tan cheek and a quick kiss to the temple he whispered;

“Sleep tight my love."


End file.
